KW 49/22

Totally lost. If I'm honest I don’t even know why I am typing these words down here now. Lacking any ambition what so ever. 

I mean I really try to gain control and make the most of the day, stay upbeat, pursuade myself to believe "I am competent, capable and worthy" listening to uplifting tunes like  "Walking on sunshine" and "Dont stop me now" on endless repeat..but

God’s current color palette, ranging from 90 to 99% black, does not particularly encourage me in my will to live. 

C’mon girl! Pick yourself up. It’s still early...reasonably...at least not „too late“. Not even lunch time yet...for some people. Just after... 4pm...Get up! Meditate! Take a shower. Pick an outfit other than the pajama, dressing gown or the bulged out jogging pants you wore for the past 7 days. 

Mhm...I could do I suppose even if I do not feel the urge to do so...just to sort gummy bears by its color.

C'mon! Move your ass and your mind will follow. Ok, ok...just gathering my...bits and pieces

After a pointless week of no achievement at all, I did set the alarm clock to 8am this morning in the ambitious attempt of a fresh start. The plan was to finally get my life in order. 

Apply something like „Time Management“ to the bare frame of the existence.

Apparently a range of tools and techniques to manage TIME would help one to accomplishing specific goals...IN THEORY.

Of course it would help, to have a defined GOAL in the first place. And not just spend the days in limbo, sensing that everything is utterly pointless all together. 

The compliance of a due date is another important aspect within the concept... in theory.

I got no due date, no deadline, possibly not even a right to exist. 

I've got nothing to hold on to apart from the daily organization of my pathetic existence in a vacuum. (TAGESGESTALTUNG)

So great! Let's get to work! Structure your little pitiful life. Start planning...Jot down your to do’s and then just stick to (them)..

Excuse me! What do you work out, if you got no limbses or lack an entire body all together? 

The hours/days/weeks consist of nothingness. Empty frames. Dials without hands, hourglasses without sand, spirits without levels. Der letzte Monat des Jahres liegt vor mir wie ein leerer Sarg, der grundlos auf Beisetzung wartet, ohne das darauf oder daraus irgendetwas folgen würde. Im Gegenteil. Auf einen verpufften Leeraum, folgt nur der Nächste. Existenzvakuum in Endlosschleife. (Wdh, Wdh, Wdh..)

Day 16458

What matters is the means, not the ends. What the fuck are the MEANS even supposed to mean? 

Day 16436

My so called (Birth)-Day...so "Happy"B-day, I guess. Cheers to another year of "Life vs Mareike". Another year in which I managed not to fall apart. Another year that didn't break me. Hold on! What are we exactly toasting to? Is it birth or isn't it the escape of death for yet another year? Well, whatever! Next question. What are you doing (for your birthday)?
You mean what am I doing TODAY in general? Or right NOW in particular? Right now I am sitting on my sofa, listening to a song on Spotify that the algorithm seems to have picked for this occasion "She just likes to fight". In general... I don't know..what am I going to do today. I guess I'll just wait and see...

In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.

Day 16373

Puls auf 180. Alles geht mir furchtbar auf die Nerven heute. Stehe kurz vor einer Explosion. Dabei habe ich noch keinen Schritt vor die Tür gemacht und es ist schon wieder viel zu spät!

Schlurfe in die Küche und bleibe, zur Begrüßung in den Tag, erstmal mit meinem kleinen Zeh am Tischbein hängen.
Draußen, soweit ich das aus meiner Parzelle beurteilen kann, gibts heut' nix zu holen, zumindest nichts, dass mich nicht noch weiter in den Wahnsinn treiben würde.

Vernehme diffuses Stimmengewirr, penetrantes Gelächter, ein Rumpeln und Poltern, offenbar erzeugt durch schwere Materie, die nicht am richtigen Platz steht und nun mit vereinten Kräften versetzt werden soll. Ein Blick aus dem Fenster (misanthropische Perspektive) wirft nur weitere Fragen auf:

Im Hof randaliert eine Gruppe Männer, in schwarzen Jacken. "Sicherheit" steht in großen Lettern auf ihren Rücken. Ewas, das aussieht wie ein Grill, wird entzündet und katapultiert unter Knallen kleine Feuerbälle in die Luft. Alle lachen blöde und glotzen auf das kleine Stahlobjekt. Lächerlich!

Meine Aufbackbrötchen sind verbrannt. Unschlüssig, wie ich den Tag strukturieren soll.

Es schweben mir ein paar Dinge vor aber wo soll ich anfangen und vor allen Dingen: WARUM?

Was ist das heutige Ziel? eine Klobürste kaufen? 

LebensRealität-Check: schon wieder 11:43.

Erstmal ein verbranntes Brötchen frühstücken.. 

Day 16287

I don’t care anymore! Or ...at least I try not to. 

I try not to care whether anyone will ever read this text or look at my work or it’ll be hidden, almost buried alive in the realms of the internet and (probably) never ever been seen again. I don’t care! 

Damn it!!! Who am I kidding? 

I care! I care a great deal. Because... I want to be loved, I suppose.

Sure, masturbation can serve as an interim solution for a while but its a dead end in the long term. I want to be loved..or at least liked...get your attention. It's pathetic. But it's the truth.

And so I keep telling myself: One day it’ll catch someones attention.

Even if its unlikely to happen that my legacy will get discovered during my lifetime…there needs to be at least hope for me that somebody, ONE single person CARES about this. ONE DAY. 

Could be you. Now. So, why not pretend it is you. Right here, right now. You accidentally stumbled across this page...How on earth I don’t know..but you did. So, Welcome!…you wanna know WHAT this is about..What I do…

You wanna be entertained, make it worth your while that you’re here …let me think quickly…

ummmm.... I don't wanna hold you up..a piece..a meaningful piece...a funny one...You hesitate. You got no time. How much time do you have? This is boring. You are on the verge to leave...

STOP! Wait...

What do you do? Do you happen to be an archaeologist by any chance?

That would come in handy, as a witty archaeologist or someone with an exceptional sense for the extraordinary of the seemingly ordinary…would be the ideal candidate for me...for THIS

I need a  specialist in his field really, treating this very find like…well, nothing less than the discovery of the 21st century.

A gemstone...a jewel..not just any jewel but let's say the "pink star"...

But if not…

I ll have to do continue anyway.  

I have no choice. I’ll continue to jot down the excrements of my life and create images of everything and nothing, whether I have an audience or not - just as I am doomed to live my life. 

(To be continued...)